Sweet Rehab
by the Last Flowerchild
Summary: When Toki is put in charge of breaking Pickles of his drug and drinking habits, he discovers just how much the drummer likes him. SLASH. Very bad, yummy slash. One-shot. Please review.


**: :: : ::: :: : : :: : ::: :: : : :: : ::: :: :**

****WARNING****

**Alright, here it is:**

**Slash[Pickles & Toki, 'cause I love them both]. Some bad language**

**Alcohol/Drugs, 'cause they're FUN. If you don't like, don't read.**

****DISCLAIMER****

**No, I don't own anything—which is not brutal. :(**

_**Reviews are love.**_

**: :: : ::: :: : : :: : ::: :: : : :: : ::: :: :**

"**THIS IS GETTING RIDICULOUS," **Nathan growled as he and the rest of _Dethklok _watched Pickles drunkenly swaying behind his drum kit.

The orange-haired man was muttering in a slurred way, and trying to pound out the beat to a song for the new album in the recording studio. Needless to say, things weren't going well at all. Skwisgaar sighed as his fingers began strumming on his Gibson—he had originally planned to record his solo after Pickles, but it didn't look as though that would happen today.

"Ammnest 'dere some way that I cans record it?" the Swede asked, arching a brow as Pickles lost his balance and nearly fell from his seat.

Nathan shook his head and said darkly, "You can't even play the drums; no one can other than that stupid dildo."

"Yeah, and besides, yous already get enough solos, Skwisgaar," Toki said, crossing his arms and giving the blond a bitter glare. "If anyones get to records it, it should bes me."

"What about me?" Murderface blurted. "I only play the bassh. Why can't I do anything elsh? I could play the shtupid drumsh."

"No, that's stupid; he just has to stop drinking so much..."

"Uh, now, Nathans, you knows what we said abouts getting in each other lives-es." Skwisgaar warned. The other man just let out a grunt and leaned toward the microphone that was in front of him.

He said into it, "Hey, Pickles, why don't you take a break?"

Upon hearing this, the drummer threw one of his sticks at the glass that separated him from the rest of the band and yelled, "I ain't need nooo break, I's cams—am gonna do 'diiiiiiis! Gonna rec'rd this sooooong, yeah."

Toki frowned and asked into the mic, "What haves you been drinking, Pickle?"

He shrugged his skinny shoulders and slurred into his own mic, "Oh, I dunnoooo...I had some vadka, and some coke, earlier—cociane!" he blurted, similar to the style of a certain rock & roll clown. "...an' 'den I got 'dis really good weed from this guy an'-"

"Okay, okay, we get it," Nathan interrupted. "The point is that you're drunk and high and it's fucking up the album. Why don't you get help? Like...uh...rehab or something?"

Murderface narrowed his eyes at him. "But we all shaid that-"

"Enough is enough," he said, glaring over at Pickles from behind the glass. "when he starts fucking up the music, he starts fucking up the money, and that's when I start caring." he yelled back in the mic, "Pickles! We're gonna go sign you up for some fucking rehab!"

The drummer wasn't really listening anymore, though. He had begun banging his one drumstick against the drum kit and muttering the lyrics to some old _Snakes 'n' Barrels _song. Once he was done, he screamed out, "Stupid so-ho-ber mother-douche bags, with stupid, dildo-licker Rikki Kixx..." he threw his hands up above his head and exclaimed, making the others jump, "Screw me over, stupid idiots, an' fuck MY LIFE!"

Skwisgaar nodded and said numbly, "Ugh...ja, someones should fix him."

"But who?" Nathan wondered, scratching his head. "Who?"

"Don't look at me, I got shtuff to do," Murderface protested.

"Why can'ts we just send him to real rehab place?" Toki asked. Nathan glared over at him.

"Because we don't want some long, drawn out fucking cure, we want him better _now—_by tomorrow, if we can. After the album's done I don't give a living fuck how much he drinks. Besides, imagine how much press we'd get for doing something like that," he said, "it'd be a fucking nightmare."

They all watched with mixtures of pity and amusement as Pickles fell to the ground and started shouting highly, "BULLET IN THE FUCKIN' BRAIN! _Boom! _Dead!"

Then Nathan's gaze traveled over to Toki, whose pale blue eyes were wide. "I know who's gonna fix him..."

**: :: : ::: :: : : :: : ::: :: : : :: : ::: :: :**

"I still don'ts understands how I was one that ended up doings this tonight," Toki grumbled as he watched Pickles fall onto his bed.

Of course, he really knew how he had gotten stuck serving as rehab tonight; Nathan had asked him. And, not surprisingly, Toki had agreed. He agreed to do almost anything anyone asked of him, because, though he had never actually told anyone, he didn't really feel like he was friends with anyone in the band. He didn't really fell like he belonged or was cared about, and this had always sort of troubled him.

The truth was that Toki really did want to be loved, he really did, it just seemed like no one really _cared _about what he wanted...

"Heeeey, _Tooooki?" _Pickles called, bouncing up and down on the bed. The Norwegian glanced over at him from where he was sitting on the floor.

Toki had crossed his legs and messing with one of the buckles on his boot as he asked, "Ja, whats?"

"You should...you should come'mere..."

He rolled his eyes and got up. Resentfully, Toki made his way over to where Pickles was laying and asked, "What you wants, Pickle?"

"You should get mee some—ah-some vadka!"

He shook his head. "You knows you ain't supposed to have that rights now."

Pickles seized a handful of his long, brown hair and pulled. Toki let out yelp of pain as the drummer forced him closer to his face—so close that he could smell the alcohol on his breath. "You gonna fuckin' get me some booze 'n some fuckin' weed?"

Toki shook his head and tried to pull away, saying calmly, "No, Pickle, look-"

"You gonna get fuckin' _hiiiigh _with me, huh, Toki?"

"Pickle, you ams fucked up."

He released him and nodded, his green eyes shining brightly in the dim light of Toki's room. "Fuck yeah, I am...an' I want some rock an' roll french fries!" and he covered his mouth suddenly and shuttered. "Ah, Gad, I don't feel good..."

"What? You ams sick?" Toki asked, leaning close to him. Pickles just closed his eyes tightly and his hands balled into fists.

"Gad, please, seriously, okay? Get me some fuckin' drugs, _now!"_

"You can'ts have none!"

"Please, Toki, please! Gad, it's fuckin' _freezing _in here!" he exclaimed suddenly, hugging himself. This utterly puzzled Toki.

What was going on? Was this some sort of act Pickles was putting on to try and get drugs?

Suddenly Pickles jumped up and crawled under the covers. All of his previous foolishness seemed to have left him as he plead, "Please, jus' go and get me some fuckin' drugs! I think I'm havin' this weird thing...withdrawal or somethin'..."

"You ams getting better?"

"Are you crazy? I'm freezing cold!"

Toki sighed. "Ohs. Well, I can'ts be helping yous, 'cause 'dat would be enables you. But even though you ams powerless, I still..." his voice trailed off. It had been a lot easier to say to Dr. Rockzo, but Pickles? Truth be told, he really didn't know how he felt about him, mostly because he didn't know how Pickles felt about_ him._

The drummer stared at him oddly and suddenly he was smiling. "You've never gotten stoned a day in your fuckin' life, have ya?" he didn't know what to say, so he just shrugged and bit his lip. Pickles laughed and said, "Wow, you sure don't really get it, do ya?"

Toki said nothing for a whole minute before, "I hates how you dos it."

Pickles stopped laughing and asked, "Hate how I do what?"

"Gets high and drunks and stuffs; it makes me feel real bad."

"Why would it make _you _feel bad? It's not like _you're _the one wakin' up with the hangovers and headaches and shit."

Toki turned red and said, "Ja, sos what? It just seems like a waste...like you ams wasting yourself or something..."

In his mind, it had sounded good. Judging by the oblivious look on Pickles' face, he didn't really understand what in the hell Toki was talking about, but in the Norwegian's mind it was quite simple. He sat around a lot, and was sometime silent. He liked to watch people when he was bored, and he liked to watch how they acted. Like how often Skwisgaar could pick up sluts—so far his record was eighteen girls in five minutes—and he liked to watch Nathan as he mumbled to himself and tried to think up new song material...and Pickles. He had watched so many times as he gambled away brain cells getting high and drinking. To Toki it seemed like such a waste. He was a good drummer, so why did he insist on fucking himself up like that?

"You wanna know why I get so fucked up?" Pickles asked suddenly, breaking Toki from his thoughts.

The guitarist nodded. "Ja, I woulds likes to."

"I dunno," he began. "maybe it's 'cause before _Dethklok _I was pretty much just a know-nothin', do-nothin', talentless, stupid idiot. Fuck it—maybe it's because the only halfway decent thing my dad ever told me was, 'Get out, you belang in a garbage can'. Maybe that's why I get so fucked up...maybe..." his voice trailed off.

It was then that it became all too apparent to Toki that in all actuality, Pickles had no earthly clue why he got fucked up. "Pickle?" he asked, trying to get the drummer's attention. Pickles looked up, a brow raised.

"Huh, yeah?"

"I...I ams sorry...looks, if you reallys wants it, then I cans-"

"Toki, why're you like 'dat?" he interjected. The Norwegian frowned, not noticing it as the drummer sat up and leaned a little closer to his face.

"Why Is like what?"

"Why do you let people run over ya like that?"

"I...Is..."

There was a moment of silence as Toki struggled to think of something to say. Finally, Pickles said gently, "Look, I'm sorry; I...I don't know why you're like you are—it's like you're too nice. It's almost like you're-"

"Ain't nobodys in this place likes me," he said. This made Pickles' heart drop.

Suddenly he felt horrible for what he had said. Why would he make little Toki feel like that? He swallowed and reached forward, gently putting some of Toki's hair behind his ear. "Sorry I pulled your hair, Toki." The name sounded sweet, so he said it just for the hell of it. "Toki..."

The Norwegian sighed and looked down. "It fine, really, Pickle."

"Hmm..." was all he could do, just breathe. Then he whispered, "What?"

"I saids I'm sorry Pickle."

"Yeah." he was beginning to love the sound of his name falling from the tongue of the guitarist...he was beginning to love it very much...

His hand moved down and gently glided to the front of Toki's jeans, to his zipper, where it began stroking. Toki's pale eyes grew wide as he said to the drummer, "What ams you-"

"You know what you should do?" Pickles asked.

"Whats?"

"You should say my name again." he began stroking harder, until Toki let out a little raspy breath and squirmed to force more of himself into Pickles' hand.

"Pickle? You wants me to say-"

"Yeah, you say it so _nice. _I like the way you say my name." he was starting to get a bad headache, and he felt freezing again, but he ignored it. Drugs could wait. This could not.

"I...oh, Gods, Pickle, why you touching me like that?"

"Cause it turns me on..." he took a deep breath and stared into Toki's eyes. "...don't it make you fuckin' hot?" He didn't say anything, so Pickles leaned in and kissed him, letting his tongue coax Toki's into playing. When he pulled away, the Norwegian was panting, staring at him with wide eyes.

"Why you gots to touch me likes that?" he repeated.

Pickles said nothing as he stopped stroking Toki. His hands found the Norwegian's ass and gave it a firm squeeze. Toki let out a sharp gasp and his whole body became rigid. "You have such a fuckin' _perfect _ass, Toki..."

The drummer's hands gave it a firm slap, and Toki let out a hiss of pain and began, "Pickle we can'ts-"

"You don't think that nobody likes you?"

His face grew red as he said softly, full of fear, "Do yous likes me, Pickle?"

"No, now shut up an' let me fuck with you for a while."

The truth was that he really was beginning to like Toki—_love _him, in fact. Never before had someone managed to turn him on this much this fast. It was odd, really. Pickles wasn't thinking of it as _gay _exactly—which is certainly what it was—but instead just nice. Perfect, actually.

Still, he wasn't too gentle as he threw Toki onto the center of the bed and climbed on top of him. He gave him another deep, passionate kiss, then breathed, "Do you like it like this? You and me fuckin' around?"

Toki nodded and opened his mouth to say something, and this earned him another forceful slap on the ass. At the sound of pain he let out, Pickles closed his eyes; it sounded so damn _good. _

"Hey, Toki, I got a question for you."

An idea had popped into his head; a _wonderful _idea. A forbidden idea.

"Ja?"

"You ever sucked dick before?"

Toki gasped and shook his head. "Nos, I aint's like tha-"

"So you wouldn't like suckin' my di-"

"Pickle, what ams you saying?" he asked this, his eyes darting to the bedroom door, his chest rising and falling quickly. It was all too apparent that he _wanted _to, but he just seemed to need a little push. He was embarrassed to admit he wanted another man in that way. Pickles grinned at this and roughly pushed him off the bed and forced him on his knees.

Toki didn't resit as Pickles grabbed a handful of his hair, forced his head back, and gave him another kiss before saying, "I swear, by the end of this, I'm gonna have you up against the wall screamin'."

He didn't exactly know what he meant by this, but he said it anyway. Staring at Toki just made him so god damned horny...

Without hesitation, he pulled off his pants and watched as Toki's eyes grew wide with amazement. "Pickle, what I-"

"Put it in your mouth an' suck it."

Toki, not really knowing what else to do, gave in and took Pickles into his mouth, sucking deeply. The drummer let out a sigh and his hands remained intertwined in the Norwegian's long hair, encouraging him to go further. "C'mon," he moaned, "suck it really good..." He forced himself deeper into Toki's mouth, making him gag and choke. Pickles didn't falter, though. He just became stiff with pleasure and whispered, "Yeah, that's good; choke on it a little; take it in deeper."

The guitarist looked up at him, his mouth full, with his pale blue eyes shining brightly. Pickles let out a gasp as he felt Toki's tongue gliding over the head of his cock. "Oh, Gad..." Suddenly he felt Toki's warm hands forcing his thighs apart and taking him in deeper, and he couldn't help but to begin imagining things—very _bad _things...

[Or very good things.]

He pictured Toki's fine, muscled form under his, panting and sweating, begging Pickles to fuck him...he could nearly hear the Norwegian's pleading, hungry voice. _'Please fucks me, please, Pickle...I wants you so bad...' _He could imagine him saying it thru clenched teeth as the pleasure became too much...

Then he looked down at Toki as he sucked and asked aloud, "You really like it like 'dis?"

Though his mouth was full, Toki managed to nod and say, his voice muffled, "Ja, ja."

Pickles grinned and snickered a little, watching the guitarist's desperate attempt to make him cum; to taste him. "You really want me like 'dis? Cumming in your fuckin' mouth like you're a bit-"

"Oh, Gods, ja."

_Bitch, _he completed in his mind with the slightest thought of amusement. Then he felt Toki's fingers nimbly begin stroking the underside of his cock. He moaned and finally he released control. Once he had come, Toki stared up at him, his mouth still full of the drummer's cock.

"Swallow," Pickles commanded with some air of harshness.

Toki obeyed, and once he had, Pickles pulled him up into his lap, threw him back on the bed, and kissed him one last time, tasting the saltiness of his own desire. Toki wiped his mouth with his hand and breathed, "You still wants me to go to kitchen and gets you bottle of-"

"Fuck no. I'm gonna be busy tonight," he said, smiling at him evilly.

The Norwegian arched a brow. "With whats?"

"I'm gonna be fucking around with you all night, even if you don't want me to, Toki," he responded, hugging the guitarist to him. A note of tenderness entered his voice as he said, "I'm gonna make you scream, little Toki; _my _Toki."

He only laughed a little and said, "I loves you, Pickle. You loves me?"

"Course I don't, but you're really good at suckin' my dick, so I guess you're sure as hell my best friend."

Of course Pickles loved Toki—he _knew _he did—but he would never admit this to him. Not in a million years.

**: :: : ::: :: : : :: : ::: :: : : :: : ::: :: :**

****A/N****

**What can I say? I love the idea of Pickles and Toki together a lot ****more than Skwisgaar and Toki. I don't know why, but it's cute, huh? **

**Anyways, if you want Skwisgaar/Toki stuff, the next fanfic I write will be about that.**

**ALSO, PLEASE NOTE: Pickles is from Wisconsin, so, in an effort to bring the character to life, ****I wrote his speech differently. **

**The best example of this would be how he says 'vadka' instead of _vodka._**

**Toki will also add the letter 's' to the end of stuff and he may speak in muddled English...that's just how it is.**

**So no, I'm not stupid. I really can spell. I'm not trying to be mean, just trying to explain my actions. **

**PEACE**

**LOVE**

**REVIEWS?**


End file.
